


A Melancholy Anniversary

by tacticalbuttcheeks



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:30:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8603713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacticalbuttcheeks/pseuds/tacticalbuttcheeks
Summary: Artemesia Mahariel reflects on the death of her parents and her responsibility to her younger sister, Anthra.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArellasMercy (askarella)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/askarella/gifts).



> Something I wrote a while back and touched up a bit. Luna belongs to arellasmercy and Arte's sister, Anthra, belongs to arkvenor on tumblr.

Artemesia’s usually hazel eyes seemed to glow gold as they reflected the flickering light of the fire. It had begun dying down about an hour previous and she’d ambled over from her watchful pacing to sit on a pack that had been tossed haphazardly there when the group had returned to camp earlier after a scouting excursion.

Morrigan, Luna and Wynne all seemed wary of the forest and so Arte had reluctantly agreed to slowing down in order to take the extra time to investigate it before delving in. The brooding elf didn’t like waiting, and as soon as they’d made the decision, she’d shoved a giant piece of mastiche into her mouth and had been bitterly chewing the gummy substance ever since- to the point that her jaw had long gone numb and was moving purely through muscle memory. Anthra had always scrunched up her nose at Arte’s habit, mostly because she found the chewing sound so grinding on her nerves, but she never brought it up since she was aware it calmed her sister and kept her from punching trees or other people, which was preferable. 

A strange sound came from the pack she was sitting on and, with piqued curiosity, Arte moved her hips from side to side. Judging by the sad _prrring_ of a mandore that escaped the bag, she concluded her makeshift seat likely belonged to Leliana. With her curiosity sated, she continued with her halfhearted prodding of the fire with a branch she’d picked up. With mild concern she wondered if the sturdy 'branch' might actually be Wynne’s staff, judging by the smoothness of the wood, but she ultimately decided that if she had been using a magical instrument as a poker there would be some sort of reaction, a tear in the veil or an explosion or something. The elf shrugged to herself, finally settling on the thought that whether or not the item was a staff was inconsequential, and it wasn’t as though she wasn’t used to Wynne’s lectures anyway. She'd just accept the verbal lashing and then find her a new one. 

Arte was so caught up in her musings about the stick that she barely caught the footsteps behind her, punctuated by the sharp snap of a twig. She didn’t turn, just tilted her head almost imperceptibly to focus her hearing and, upon deciding the person wasn’t a threat, continued her train of thought. _And even if it is Wynne’s staff, why did she just leave it about in such a way? Maybe_ I’ll _have to lecture_ her _about proper staff storage-_

“You were supposed to wake me up an hour ago for my watch, Artemesia.” The person's calm voice broke through the warden's train of thought as she gracefully sat herself down beside Arte and stretched languidly. 

She shrugged, still not regarding her companion, being far more content with her new focus, using her makeshift poker to terrorize a small group of ants that were ambushing a piece of mutton that had apparently escaped that afternoon’s stew. A hissing sound came from an ant that Arte had crushed under the glowing hot tip of her instrument of torture before her companion jerked it out of her hand. 

“Artemesia Mahariel is this Wynne’s staff?”

Again, Arte shrugged, reaching out her foot to continue squashing the insects under her big toe one at a time since she no longer had the prod. A sigh escaped her neighbor who sat the staff down and put her hand on Arte’s knee, then her head on her shoulder.

“You’ve been very quiet today, is there something on your mind?”

Arte flared her nostrils in irritation, “Luna I’m fine, just leave me alone.” The elf beside her removed her head from her shoulder to study her with a bright emerald eye, scrutinizing the way Artemesia pointedly wouldn’t meet her gaze, staring into the embers of the fire as though there was something particularly entrancing in there, her thick brows drawn down in a way that made the creases in her face particularly evident.

Luna’s own brows drew down in frustration and she grabbed the brooding elf’s chin and jerked her face to force her to look at her. Even so, Arte stubbornly turned her eyes so that they were still looking in the general direction of the fire and Luna had to put her hands on both sides of the woman’s head before she finally relented and gave her attention away.

Arte’s gaze always struck Luna. In all her years she’d never seen a look so piercing. She couldn’t help but think that the weight of just a glare from those eyes could make even Fen’harel uneasy, if only for a moment. They were striking in a way that she could never understand but nonetheless drew her in every time it turned her way. Affection rose in her chest, and even moreso when she felt the warrior with those piercing eyes deflate under Luna’s ministrations, her tense shoulders falling limp. Arte closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against Luna’s calloused hands. 

“You’ve been very quiet today, is there something on your mind?” She repeated gently, laying a soft kiss on her lover’s nose. 

Arte paused and Luna feared she’d throw those walls back up again before she slowly nodded. 

Luna nodded back and laid her head in Arte’s lap, waiting expectantly for her to gather her thoughts. It took several moments of Arte looking solemnly into the fire that was once again fading, her fingers subconsciously detangling the knots from Luna’s white hair which glowed faintly in the darkness of midnight before she took in a deep breath, signifying that she was ready. 

“Today’s Anthra’s birthday.” She said quietly, her jaw tensing. Luna reached up and traced the tight muscles, trying to ease the tension out of them before gently gliding her finger up to her cheek to circle the prominent bone there, and then back down to her jaw. 

“That’s a good thing, no?” Luna prompted quietly. Artemesia’s eyes flicked down at her momentarily before turning back to the pit, though from the distance in the other elf’s gaze she guessed Arte was seeing beyond where they were at that moment.

“Yes. Yeah I guess it is.” She sighed, then paused, her face scrunching up as she considered how she’d proceed. “Did you know that our parents are dead?”

The sentence took Luna a bit off guard and she took a moment to think back. “No, I don’t believe so. I guess I assumed, neither you nor your sister like to speak of them and when you do it’s always in reverence. How did it happen?”

Arte nodded at the fair assessment and continued, answering Luna’s query. “An attack. Humans, some city elves. I was almost six years old at the time. My father was hunting while my mother was gathering berries near where he was. She’d wanted to hunt too but father was always fussing over her since she was nearly due to have Anthra, he didn’t want her to strain herself.” The corners of her mouth tugged up a bit and Luna could see in her eyes that she was seeing her mother and father again, she wore that look herself at times. The smile quickly dropped, however. “Father was ambushed. He was able to get close enough to yell at mom to run before he was caught and his throat slit, mother was shot twice in her shoulder and once in the thigh but managed to get back to camp. The stress sent her into premature labor. Ashalle said she died from complications in childbirth but I saw her face. She watched the love of her life die right in front of her. She had no will to live.”

The words were bitter but Luna detected no malice in the way Arte spoke them. “I see.”

“Every year I try to be good for Anthra’s sake but.. I don't know, she looks just like our mother. I close my eyes and all I see is that look that my mother wore, but on Anthra’s face. I- fenedhis I’m so damn weak. Forget what I said.” Abruptly, she stood, roughly sending Luna’s head which had been on her lap onto the dirt and she walked back to her tent without another word.

\--

The next morning, Artemesia didn't emerge from her tent until late in the morning, drawn out by the smell of food cooking over the fire. Anthra and Zevran had roused early to hunt and had come back laughing at a shared joke and carrying a wild pig between them. The sight had earned a disapproving _tsk_ from Wynne, but Luna's eye softened and a smile touched her lips at the obvious bond blossoming between the pair. Perhaps they still deluded themselves into thinking that their relationship didn't amount to anything beyond the bedroom, but the rest of the camp was not so easily fooled. 

As Arte took a chunk of meat and a portion of stale bread and sat herself away from the rest of the gathered companions and their morning conversations, Luna looked over her lover, worrying at her lip as she considered whether she should give Arte some space after the tense conversation they'd had. Arte's eyes flickered momentarily to Luna and she made her decision, rising with her plate and moving over to the self-isolated elf. "Love, about last night-"

Arte growled low in her throat and interjected, speaking around the food in her mouth, "no, we're not talkin' about last night, understood?" She swallowed and sent a pointed glare at Luna. 

The smaller elf frowned but nodded. "Understood. But I want you to know that you're not weak, not by a long shot." 

Artemesia's nostrils flared at her insistence to have the last word on the subject. All the same, when Luna had turned back to the plate in her lap, she caught with no small amount of satisfaction, the warden's shoulders lose some of their tension and a small smile tease the corners of her lips before being quickly wiped away out of the corner of her eye and knew that she'd gotten through to the stubborn woman.


End file.
